Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

A CHARIOTEER by ANONYMOUS

First Line: "MY CONSTANTINE, WHY SLEEP IN BRONZE? AWAKEN"
Last Line: "FATHERLESS, BY YOUR MASTER HAND FORSAKEN"
Subject(s): CHARIOT RACING;
MY Constantine, why sleep in bronze? Awaken.
Now on the track the people mourn your bridle,
And charioteers, like orphan boys, sit idle, --
Fatherless, by your master hand forsaken.



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